


Thousand Dollar Deal

by SelSpeaks



Category: Lupin III
Genre: CW: disordered eating, Editing what editing, F/M, fujiko centered, this isnt an in depth or accurate depiction of eds i just needed to get out my feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24811636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelSpeaks/pseuds/SelSpeaks
Summary: The first time Fujiko stopped eating, she was fifteen.[cw for disordered eating]
Relationships: Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Thousand Dollar Deal

The first time Fujiko stopped eating, she was fifteen. She was forcefully enrolled into a private all-girls reform school two countries away from where she called home, and every morning she overheard the other students nitpick themselves and others in the showers. At first she ignored them, believing she would escape within a month. By the third month, though, she was sharing makeup with Trisha and learning how to curl her hair _just so_. By the fifth month, she had joined the others in their hatred of various parts of themselves. Fujiko thought her nose was too long, maybe. Her waist was too wide. Her thighs were touching too much, breasts didn’t stick out enough. By the end of the sixth month, the girls were doing diets together and challenging one another to fast as long as possible- winner got the playboy magazine for a week. Fujiko had the magazine for three weeks before someone else won.

* * *

The second time Fujiko stopped eating, she was eighteen and in love. The man was twenty-six and handsome, but objectively a mess. Fujiko liked that about him. He made her feel special, made her feel mature. She wanted to fix him. He would buy her cigarettes from the convenience store two blocks down and, sometimes, toss an energy drink her way. During sex he let his hands hover over her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, until one day they hovered a little less. It didn’t take long for the sex to nearly stop completely, and he was buying cigarettes for another young woman about twenty pounds lighter. The mature thing, Fujiko knew, would be to move on. But instead she fueled her heartbreak with nicotine and early morning runs and, eventually, “accidental” encounters with her once-lover. He drooled over her and begged to have her back, and Fujiko felt a rush of joy as she turned heel and left him there in the street. She marched three blocks down and bought a strawberry milkshake.

* * *

The third time Fujiko stopped eating, she had been stringing along some young son-of-a-politician again. He was naive and threw money at her in hopes of sex or even the success of caller her his partner. That’s when she spotted someone taller, older, perhaps a bit more aloof, schmoozing with her guy’s father. She noticed when he lifted the man’s watch during their handshake and skillfully slipped it in his jacket pocket. She noticed when he gracefully sipped the whiskey offered to him, not a hint of distaste on his face. And, of course, she noticed when his eyes not-so-casually followed a young woman who _really_ needed a solid meal. Fujiko didn’t know who this man was, but she found that she wanted to know him in every way she could. They locked eyes for a moment and he gave her a quick wink before turning back to the politician in front of him. Fujiko decided he would be hers. 

She followed him for weeks throughout the city, watching him drink in high class bars and flirt with small waitresses. She watched as he spoke in nonsense to scary looking men three times his size like it was normal. She watched and watched and watched, all the while waiting for that dress two sizes down to fit a bit better. When it finally did, she was dizzy and irritable and felt so much pride in herself. She knew, of course, where he was. When she sat next to him at the bar, the sound of jazz flowing around them and ice tinkling in glass, she thought the scene was set in her favor. A beautiful high-class woman in a high-class bar choosing to sit next to him? This man was as good as got. So when he turned to her first, when he spoke first, Fujiko fumbled just a moment.

“I sure hope you didn’t lose all that weight for little ol’ me, Fujiko Mine.”

She looked him right in the eye and frowned. This wasn’t the plan at all, and she wasn’t used to men with brains in their head. 

“Well, I’d say I'm honored but please,” he casually wrapped his arm around her shoulders like they had known each other all their lives and winked. “Will you eat something tonight? I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”

Three hours later they were at an upscale restaurant the next city over, lobster in front of him and a delicate pasta in front of her. He hadn’t stopped talking the entire three hours and Fujiko, for once, didn’t mind dealing with an annoying man. He was talking so much that he hadn’t touched his food, and so of course she hadn’t touched hers either. He paused for a moment and looked at her seriously.

“Look, if you don’t eat that you’re not getting the hundred bucks.”

“I don’t need a hundred dollars,” she replied with a smile. 

“I know you don’t need it, but I _also_ know you want it. Five hundred.”

“A thousand.”

“A THOUSAND dollars to eat some damn pasta?!” He slapped his hand to his head and leaned back with an obnoxious laugh. “A thousand damn dollars? Alright, fine, a _thousand_ dollars for you to eat that _and_ you go on another date with me!” He stuck his hand out now for a shake.

“A date? _Another_?” Fujiko’s eyebrows went up and she looked at the man across from her, waiting for the punchline. After a moment of silence between them, Fujiko placed her hand in his and shook. 

And that was the next seven months. Fujiko followed Lupin all over Europe, waiting in lavish hotels for him to return with random items and sometimes wads of cash. Once or twice another man came with him, dumped him on the floor, and left. They spent days together listening to music (“have you ever even _heard_ proper jazz?”) and watching films (“look, _Breathless_ is a French masterpiece. Were you paying attention? Look!”). Lupin would show her magic tricks and sleight of hand and patiently talk her through lockpicking- “for fun, only, of course.” He would let her stare as he dismantled, cleaned, and reassembled his gun, casually explaining the mechanisms in a way she understood. For seven months Fujiko Mine was Lupin’s Girlfriend, and for seven months she was happy. In the eighth month, Lupin asked her for a favor.

“Hey, Fujicakes, how’d you feel about helping me out on a job?”

He explained to her the big-name asshole he was after, how he was a “real sleazy type” with a particular taste in women, how Fujiko just happened to fit the bill exactly. The job, for her at least, was simple. She was supposed to go to this party and flirt with the man, practically get him in bed with her, while Lupin and whoever his friends were took what they were after. When they were done they’d come get her.

“Do I have to actually have sex with him?” Fujiko was sitting on the hotel bed in one of Lupin’s dress shirts and a pair of shorts. She hadn’t said anything during his explanation and request. Lupin shrugged and smiled.

“You never have to have sex with anyone. But you can if you want to, I guess.”

And that’s when Fujiko started questioning how serious Lupin took their relationship. The rest of the night was an argument of “what does THAT mean” and “have you been seeing other women on these jobs?!” By the time they were in bed, Lupin had calmed most of Fujiko’s worries and she had agreed to help. Still, though, in the back of her mind she couldn’t stop thinking about Lupin flirting with some small waitresses in a fancy bar all those months ago, and her illusion of perfection cracked just a bit.

* * *

The job led to the fourth time Fujiko stopped eating. It went well at first, and Fujiko had the bastard’s attention. When it came time to get him out of the crowd and alone, though, he wouldn’t budge. Eventually the man leaned down into her ear and whispered.

“Look, toots, don’t take this the wrong way but yer a bit too curvy for me, aight?”

The job went south for other reasons, some policemen raiding the place, but Fujiko still partly blamed herself and her body and her incompetence for the failure. Lupin insisted they try again in a couple months. In those months, Lupin spent most of his time with his guy friends plotting things and Fujiko, for her part, lost fifteen pounds.

This time the party was smaller and they had her disguised a bit, a wig and colored contacts securely in place, and once again it was going well. The small speaker in Fujiko’s earring let her hear what the men were doing throughout the building as they chatted strange codes to one another. A gruff voice came through the earpiece as she was trailing her finger on the target’s bicep and sweet talking him.

“Hey, boss, I don’t think things with your girl are gonna work out.”

“And what the hell is THAT supposed to mean?!”

“Lupin, Jigen’s right. I’m in his room now.”

“You pervert! Don’t watch!”

“Get your damn head outta your ass! They ain't even in here!”

“Fujicakes, what’s taking so long down there? Everything alright?”

Fujiko didn’t have time to whisper a reply before there were gunshots, screaming, people running. One of Lupin’s friends grabbed her hand and pulled her out a side door. The four of them ended up in a dingy apartment nearby that smelled like ash and stale whiskey. The place was an absolute mess and Fujiko realized _this_ is where Lupin and his gang spent most of their time. Her illusion cracked a bit more.

“Boss, we gotta rework this plan.”

“Perhaps we should give up and move on. We have failed twice now.”

“GIVE UP?! That asshole isn’t going to win over me, Goemon. I’m gonna take every damn thing he owns after that! What is his god damn ISSUE anyway?! I swear-”

“Lupin, I think we gotta take the chick outta this.” One of the men, eyes covered by a cowboy hat and posture slouched low, jutted his thumb in Fujiko’s direction. “Speakin’ of the chick, what the hell are you feedin her? Give the damn girl some food once in a while Lupin.”

Before Lupin could snap back at his friend the samurai spoke up again.

“Woman aside, we need to replan if you insist on continuing this. Jigen and I were in his bedroom. He’s right, we don’t need your girlfriend for this job.”

Lupin looked between the two men with one eyebrow raised, then looked at Fujiko. She didn’t like how he eyed her, though. His gaze was cold and calculating, like she was a statue or prize winning art rather than human. She felt like one of his treasures left in a pile in the corner. He looked her over slowly before his eyes widened and he fell backwards laughing. 

“Lupin! What the hell!” She could feel her face was getting warm and she wanted so desperately to hide in that moment. 

Lupin was on the ground clutching his stomach, laughing loudly and freely at whatever joke was in his head. The two men next to him showed no signs of laughter, though, and Fujiko wondered what was so funny about her that Lupin lost himself like this.

“Oh, Fujicakes, please don- don’t look at me like that! I swear its not-” he gasped for breath. “It’s not you! You’re perfect! The perfect woman!”

“So what is the issue here, Lupin?! You say I’m perfect so what- am I _too_ perfect or something?!” She was angry now, but not because she was offended. She pushed down the embarrassment that threatened to overwhelm her and instead decided she was pissed at the man laughing at her. 

“You’re too ‘woman’, actually,” The samurai said with a little smile creeping on his face. 

At this, finally, all three men were laughing. Lupin was in a full belly laugh on the floor, the cowboy was covering his mouth and chuckling, and the samurai was silently shaking with a tight smile on his face. Fujiko stood there, anger fading, as she put all the pieces together in her head. 

“He’s...gay?”

“Bingo! Damn Lupin where’d you find this chick, she’s slow as a snail.”

“She’s just hungry, man, don’t be like that.”

And so Fujiko snacked on the one apple in the fridge while the three men in the living room planned, yet again, how to rob someone. 

* * *

The fifth time Fujiko stopped eating, Jigen slapped her hard enough that she fell on the floor. 

They were in the middle of a job Lupin had called upon her for, somewhere in southern Italy. For half a year prior to his call, Fujiko lived as the fiancee to some noblemen and spent her days lounging and relaxing in luxury. When Lupin called her for help, she took a hard look at herself and felt shame at how she had let herself go. She used the next four and a half months to lose as much weight as she could, much to the excitement of her fake-fiance, before flying out to Italy. She communicated with the three others through earpieces and phone calls until then, when the job was fully in motion. Halfway through her part of it, her vision started going black and she felt herself moving to one side. She woke up in a different room, target nowhere to be seen, strangers asking if she was okay. She managed to excuse herself and finish the job before it was too late, but it was admittedly sloppy work. At the end of it she ran into Jigen in an empty hallway. He looked at her silently for a moment, slapped her across the face, and tilted his hat down.

“Don’t you dare let him see you like this, you damn bitch.”

And he walked away, leaving her alone on the floor with none of the spoils and all of the shame. Fujiko took off her earpiece and left the country without saying anything to Lupin. 

She went back to her fake-fiance and decided to milk him for all he was worth before the wedding date. For months she flirted and pouted and stashed away as much cash as she could. A week before the wedding- a week before she planned to leave- a card came for her.

**“I’m going to steal the most beautiful bride in all the land!**

**~ Arsene Lupin III”**

Panic filled Fujiko and she looked herself over in the mirror again and again. A week wasn’t enough time. She had to leave _now_. She was just starting to pack when a familiar voice said her name and strong hands reached out for her arm.

“Jigen told me not to find you.” Fujiko didn’t turn around. She forced a smile into her voice.

“Why would he say that to you?” She feigned a casual tone to hide the fear flooding through her.

“Why are you running away from me, Fujiko?”

“I’m just leaving before I have to actually get married, that’s all. What’s it to you, anyway?”

Her voice was colder than she wanted. Her posture was stiffer than she wanted. Lupin was closer than she wanted. Nothing in the situation, to her, was right, and the voice in her head was again fifteen in the showers talking about how terrible her body looked and how imperfect she was. Lupin said nothing and she was too afraid to turn around and look at his expression. Right as she mustered the courage to say something to him- perhaps ‘fuck off’ or maybe ‘I love you’- he spoke.

“I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you go out to dinner with me tonight.” Fujiko smiled to herself and sniffed.

“I don’t need a hundred dollars.”

“Five hundred?” Lupin’s voice was smiling now, too.

“A thousand.”

“A thousand dollars? Just for dinner?” Lupin gave a small chuckle, but it was quiet and to himself. His voice was barely above a whisper in her ear. “Fine, a thousand dollars for dinner tonight, _and_ you start therapy. Deal?”

He was hugging her now, chin resting on her head and arms secure across her body. Fujiko finally let the tears she was holding back fall and Lupin held her, gently rocking and sometimes squeezing a bit tighter, until her body stopped shaking and her voice came back. She wiped her face dry with the back of her hand and kissed his knuckles. 

“Deal.”


End file.
